“But, Mr. Clement, who can it be? Lucius was not popular, I know, but I don’t think he had any real enemies. Not—not that kind of enemy.”
I shook my head.
“It’s a mystery.”
I thought wonderingly of Miss Marple’s seven suspects. Who could they be?
After I took leave of Anne, I proceeded to put a certain plan of mine into action.
I returned from Old Hall by way of the private path. When I reached the stile, I retraced my steps, and choosing a place where I fancied the undergrowth showed signs of being disturbed, I turned aside from the path and forced my way through the bushes. The wood was a thick one, with a good deal of tangled undergrowth. My progress was not very fast, and I suddenly became aware that someone else was moving amongst the bushes not very far from me. As I paused irresolutely, Lawrence Redding came into sight. He was carrying a large stone.
I suppose I must have looked surprised, for he suddenly burst out laughing.
“No,” he said, “it’s not a clue, it’s a peace offering.”
“A peace offering?”
“Well, a basis for negotiations, shall we say? I want an excuse for calling on your neighbour, Miss Marple, and I have been told there is nothing she likes so much as a nice bit of rock or stone for the Japanese gardens she makes.”
“Quite true,” I said. “But what do you want with the old lady?”